"Sandburg, I promised myself when I returned from Peru that I would never eat another bug."

Sitting across the small caf table, Blair glanced up at his roommate with a tolerant smile. "Jim, this is a vegetarian restaurant, remember? There is no meat of any kind on the menu!"

Ellison lifted the corner of a green leafy thing with his fork. The lunch had been his idea, but the location had been his younger friend and unofficial partner's. Maybe if he was lucky, a crime would occur near by and he'd be called away by an urgent cell phone call from Simon.

"Chief, if man was meant to be a vegetarian, then why are animals made out of meat?"

"Cute, Jim. You could make a living writing slogans for bumper stickers..."

Yeah, a bank robbery down the street he mused, tuning out his friend. What would be the odds, he pondered sipping his drink. He made a face. What was in this! How many juices can you mix without a license anyway! Searching the table for the sugar bowl he started listening to Blair again.

"....so, what do you think? You want to go?"

Oops. Damn this kid switches gears faster that anyone he'd ever met. He put a forkful of green and brown mush into his mouth as a delay tactic. What was he talking about now? The mush would not go down. Jim tried sending the food on its way with another sip of toxic juice.

"Start over again, from the beginning." Bluffing sometimes worked.

Blair's face lit up with a brilliant smile.

"Sure. Okay, spring break starts this Monday. My Uncle Buck has invited us to come and stay with him at Dry Falls. You'd love it man. He says the fishing is outstanding; no one ever goes there. The house is nothing fancy, but he's got water and power. Just think - no rain! Dry climate, sunshine and did I mention NO RAIN!"

"Breathe, Blair."

"Kay. Whatca think?" He was almost bouncing in the chair. His mug of green tea clutched in both hands.

"Dry Falls?" Jim forked another mound of mush. He found it going down easier. He still wasn't enjoying the taste, but finished the task with the determination of an ex-ranger. "Eastern Washington, right?"

Blair nodded, starting in again about the desert-like landscape, hiking trails, fishing and the geological importance of the region. Jim was not sure when it happened, sometime halfway through his meal and the kid's impromptu lecture his eye was distracted by two men sitting a few tables away. The conversation at the table was soft but without much effort Ellison was able to pick up the words.

Blair knew he had made his case. Sure, Jim was still not showing any signs of agreeing, but he knew the cop well enough to know that didn't mean anything.

".. I mean think about it. Millions of years ago a flood of incredible proportions hit the land creating a massive waterfall..." he paused as he caught a cell phone being thrown at him across the table.

The man at the other table glanced up and saw the cop, then dropped his fork and bolted. Ellison was half way out of his chair. "Call for back up. "

After a quick call to the 911 operators, Blair was certain that the information had been received and that at least two uniform teams were moments away from arriving. He had watched the police detective catch the man at the front door, make the arrest and lead him back to the table in cuffs. Ellison was now reassuring the restaurant owner that everything was okay.

"Back up is minutes away, man," Blair reported, coming to stand just behind his friend's left elbow. "What did he do anyway?"

"Hector Valdez has outstanding federal warrants." He looked at his prisoner. "Your picture has been gracing the walls of our break room for about 2 weeks."

Valdez dropped his head onto his chest and muttered several curse words. "Shit, man. What are you doing here anyway? It's not like this place serves bad coffee and donuts for you guys."

"So, Jim. Are we going?"

Jim frowned, turning to his partner. "Going? Where?"

"To Dry Falls, man! What else have we been talking about?"

"Enter!" Looking up from a paper filled with column of numbers, Simon watched his number one detective enter.

"Got a second, Captain?"

"No, Jim, not really. But I tend to make the time when it's one of my men. They teach us that in Captain school." He waved his hand to the chair in front of his desk, removed his gold-framed glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I just wish they'd teach us how to read this gibberish from accounting. Good work by the way with the Valdez arrest. I love to call my buddy in the Bureau and gloat whenever we bring in one of their bad guys. How'd you find him?"

"Didn't. Sandburg dragged me to a weird place for lunch. I just spotted him in the room." Jim zoomed in on the small print in front of the large man behind the desk. "Budget time?"

"Yeah, it's a good thing our stats are improving or I'd have some real problems in the lion den they call the Budget committee. What's on your mind?"

"Vacation request." Deciding to jump with both feet and see where or what he landed in, Jim continued. "I know I'm not giving a lot of notice, but I'd like all of next week off." He handed the form across to his Captain.

Simon took it automatically and stared at it in disbelief. `Vacation?"

"My reports are done. Henri said he'd watch my open files and field any new info that shows up. But honestly, Simon, none of those cases are going anywhere fast."

"Lord, Jim, it's not like you don't have the time on the books, I'm just surprised that you're asking.."

"Excuse me?"

Simon smiled. "Jim, do you remember the last time you asked for vacation?" He waited while the other pondered the question, then supplied the answer. "Your honeymoon."

"Oh."

"So what's new? Why the sudden change?" Simon signed the form with a quick scribble and tore off the carbon copy to hand back.

"Sandburg and I are going to Dry Falls."

"You and the kid are going to Dry Falls..." Disbelief was etched on Simon's face. "Not that it's any of my business, but why?"

"Fishing, hiking, relaxation, dry weather ... and if I'm lucky, no tests." Jim smiled ruefully. He glanced at the artfully framed posters on the walls behind his boss's head. "Have you ever fished that area?"

Twenty minutes later, after a long involved story of the fish that got away at Blue Lake, Simon was once again alone with his accounting report. Picking up the phone, he hit the first pre-recorded number on the phone base.

"Rhonda, who had this month in the Ellison Vacation Pool. Well, tell him not to spend it all in one place, he just won the pot!"

The aroma coming from the loft was intoxicating. Jim bullseye'd the basket with his keys and closed the door . The coffee table was cluttered with text books and blue books. A laptop was humming quietly to itself. He spotted the day's mail stacked on the corner by the 18-inch tower of books.

"Hey, Jim. What did Simon say?" Blair asked stirring the pot on the stove with a wooden spoon.

"Got the week off. Just need to finish a few things and I'm free." Thumbing through the mail, Jim added. "Dinner smells good. Don't tell me what's in it." He frowned at the official envelope with the return address of the Superior Court. Uh oh. He ripped it open and scanned through the single page. Yep, just my luck.

"YES! This time next week we'll be basking in the heat!" Blair sang triumphantly as he removed the stir-fry from the burner and checked the rice "Dinner is `Ellison friendly', I promise. Nothing you haven't had before. It'll be ready in five."

After washing up, they sat down to eat. Jim found the meal to be tasty, helping himself to a third dish of stir-fry and finishing off the salad bowl. He'd never told his roommate, but he had started looking forward to Blair's night to provide dinner. With a few exceptions, the meals had been enjoyable. It was a nice change from the normal take out that he tended to bring home on his nights to `cook'. He polished the plate with a whole-wheat roll and sighed. The salad had him puzzled though. None of the green stuff looked like normal lettuce.

"What was that salad anyway?. It looked like it had grass clippings mixed in."

"Sheez, Jim, iceberg is so `white bread' and worthless in the nutrients department," He lectured, taking his plate to the sink and rinsing out his bottle of ice tea. "You've had these mixed greens before, didn't you like them?" He set his bottle inside the box under the sink to join the other recyclable glass.

"I didn't say I didn't like it, I'm just curious who's garden you've been pulling weeds in," Jim replied with a grin.

Blair rolled his eyes to the high ceiling above. " I'm out of here. You down with doing KP? I've got a seven pm with a study group at the U." Disappearing into his small room under the stairs, he gathered his jacket and backpack up and returned to the kitchen and tied his hair back into a ponytail while waiting for Jim's answer.

"Sure, but listen, I need to talk to you about next week." Jim started clearing his own dishes. "I just got a subpoena in today's mail from Superior Court for Friday. I guess Mattson's case got moved up for jury. If it goes, it may last for days." He started wiping down the table with a clean rag and a spray bottle filled with a solution of water and bleach.

"WHAT!" Blair dropped his backpack. "No Way, man! This is `so' not fair!"

Jim gave the table a final swipe and calmly folded the kitchen rag into quarters. "Blair, `this' is the life of a cop. The `fair' comes once a year in Puyallup." Meaning the site of the Western Washington State fairgrounds. "You just learn to live with these kinds of interruptions."

Bowing his head and taking a deep breath, the grad student tried to relax. "Sorry. Can you still go, I mean after the trial is over?"

The cop glanced at his watch. 6:45. "We'll see, go on to your meeting. It'll be okay."

With a nod, Blair hoisted his bag back onto a shoulder and headed out the door, snagging his keys from the table by the door.

Jim started filling the sink with hot water as he scraped the food scraps into a plastic sack. That went much better then the little talks he used to have with his ex-wife. Even though she was a professional in the police world and had many times received her own late subpoena notice, he recalled the loud arguments they would have when personal plans were tossed out the window. He learned to wait for the best possible times to break the bad news, times when her mood was better to receive it. Anyway, why mess up a perfectly good dinner fighting? He didn't have the heart to tell the kid a murder trial could go for weeks, not just days.

"Hi Blair."

"Hey Joel! What's up?"

"Simon is, watch out for his bite today." Joel Taggart slapped Blair on the shoulder as they walked together down the hallway toward the Major Crimes Office.

"Who got his knickers in a twist?" Blair softly asked, waving at a pretty blond file clerk walking towards them, "Hey, Susan. Nice hair cut!"

"Thanks, Blair, you're the first one to notice!"

"Susan, they're all Neanderthals around here. I keep telling you to come work for us at Rainier. We appreciate hard working, good looking file clerks!" He flashed his best lady killer smile.

She laughed good-naturedly and continued on to the Records office. Joel chuckled as he watched another female fall under the `Sandburg' spell.

Joel opened the door to the bullpen and leaned over to whisper into the young man's ear. "Something about losing a large pool of money yesterday. I hear the bet was going on a year! Darn shame it never got to the bomb squad. I could have used the extra money about now." They entered the bullpen side-by-side, wary of running into the large captain of Major Crime.

Most of the desks were empty. Simon's office door was closed. Taggart picked up a stack of files from the corner of Rhonda's desk and turned to leave with a wink to Sandburg. "Watch your back, kid."

Nodding his head with a grin, Blair waved a hand at the bomb squad captain and sat down behind Jim's desk, reaching for a file.

Thirty-five minutes later the meeting broke up and a group of detectives spilled out of Captain's Banks office. The last one to leave, Jim headed towards his desk sipping his coffee. "See you got the McPherson interview almost finished. I knew if I held out on that one you'd get around to it."

"What, you can't read your own chicken scratch anymore, Jim?" Sandburg teased, without looking up from his rapid fire typing.

"Sure, but my spelling is better when you type my notes."

"To say nothing of your sentence structure and your vocabulary. I've been meaning to tell you the things you do with a `comma' are illegal in this state!" With a flourish, Blair finished the last line and hit save.

"I'm a cop, Sandburg. We save comma placement for grad students."

Blair leaned forward, elbows on the desk, "What did the DA say, did you talk to her today?"

Jim had promised that he would call and ask the District Attorney assigned to the Mattson case if he thought it was really going out to a jury trial next week. He had made the call but did not get a definitive answer. Trials were a lot like a game of chicken. Each side waiting to see how far the other would go before taking the deal or going all the way to trial. Ellison had even seen a defendant enter a guilty plea just as the jury panel filed into the courtroom to start the Voir Dire or jury selection.

"Sorry, Chief. Too early to call yet. You should go ahead and if I can, I'll join you."

"No way, man, then we have 2 cars to drive back." He leaned back in Jim's desk chair and drummed the desktop with two pencils from the cup of assorted pens Jim kept there. "You know, I've got a buddy from the agriculture department whose folks live in Electric City. If he's going home for spring break, maybe I could hitch a ride! Then we can drive back together." He increased the tempo of his drum solo as he vocalized his plan.

Plucking the pens from a certain `death by Sandburg', Jim made shooing gestures at his roommate to reclaim his chair. "Just so you can be stranded over there if it turns out I can't make it? I don't think so. Besides, what kind of college kid goes home to Mom and Dad for spring break."

"Dude, I said Agriculture Student!" Standing now next to Jim's desk, Blair used two fingers from each hand to place imaginary exclamation marks in the air. "Need I say more?" He laughed at the frown on his partner's face. "Just kidding. He's a nice guy. REAL practical. He's saving for his own farm. Not the type of guy that would spend a wad to fly to Florida for a week of beer and naked girls." He leaned back against the edge of the empty desk next to Jim's. "I'll sound him out and offer to buy half the gas money. It will work out great!"

Rocking back in his office chair, Jim studied his partner. "What about the part where if I can't join you, you're stuck without a ride?" Jim pushed, if Blair wasn't going to consider the possibilities, someone had to.

"I'll cross that road when I come to it, maybe Curtis will swing by and pick me up on the way back." Blair bounced back up with a grin. "Besides, I have faith. You are going to come out! That trial is not going to happen, man."

"Sandburg!"

Blair jumped as the shout from the Captain Simon Banks ricocheted off the walls to the bullpen. Bank's large body filled the door-frame of his office. "Are you bothering my detective when he should be working?" he added in a more civil if not human volume. He crossed over to stand by Jim's desk, ignoring the other detectives in the office as they either buried their faces in their paperwork or fled from the office at a near run.

Blair recovered nicely and flashed a supernova smile up at the man. "Hey, Simon. I just finished Jim's McPherson interview."

"What's this I hear about you two going to Dry Falls?"

"Yeah, it's so cool. My Uncle Buck has a big piece of land right below the falls, lots of lakes to fish in. He's trying to get an orchard started. You know apples, pears, apricots..."

Simon held up a hand to stop the flow. "All right. All right. But why now - wouldn't later in the year be better, like August for instance? You know, that's when the odds are more likely that a normal person would take a vacation."

Blair just looked at his friend's boss, stumped to come up with an answer for that observation. Jim broke into a laugh. He had been listening to fellow detectives grumble all day about that stupid betting pool. He had no idea that his private life was so entertaining to those he worked with. And they said he should get a life!

Friday at ten minutes after one pm found Sandburg packing last minute items into a large bright orange backpack an external frame. Patches advertising countries from all over the globe were hand-stitched onto the fabric.

"You've got extra water?"

"Yep."

"Hat?"

"Yep."

"Cell phone with extra batteries?"

"Yep."

"Cash?"

"Yep."

"First aid k-"

"JIM!" Blair turned from his task to glare at his friend leaning his shoulder against the door-frame to his room. "We did this last night, remember? Just chill! I've been all over the world, man - twice! And I was only sixteen at the time! I know how to travel."

Jim waited until the brief verbal assault was finished. Then calmly asked. "First aid kit?"

Blair let his head fall back and stretched out both arms straight from his side. "HOPELESS!" He dropped his arms and went back to packing.

"Yep."

"Sunglasses?"

"Yep."

"New underwear?"

"Jerk."

"Yep."

Jim pushed away from the wall and went to open the door. He could hear footsteps approaching from the elevator. Curtis Atwood stood six feet five inches in scuffed cowboy boots. His arms were tan and muscular and his hands rough from manual work.

"Hi, I'm Curtis, is Blair ready?" He reached out his right hand in greeting.

"Hey Curtis, right on time, man!" Blair entered with a bouncy step, in spite of his large pack slung over one shoulder. "I'm ready to fly."

Jim walked with the pair out the loft and down to the road. He was heading out to court anyway. He had cleared time in his schedule to make sure Blair got off okay. Plus he wanted to meet this Curtis guy and check out what type of vehicle he was driving.

Curtis watched in his rear view mirror, as the figure standing on the sidewalk grew smaller then disappeared as he turned the next corner.

"Was he serious?"

Blair snickered. "Naw, I don't think he even has a ticket book."

Six hours later Blair found himself walking down a two-lane road with gravel shoulders. The ride had been okay. But, what he had not told Jim was that his driver only agreed to drop him off at Dry Falls Junction on Highway 2. Curtis needed to head north to his home town and Blair wanted to go south. Blair's plan had been to hitch-hike the last 60 plus miles.

His first ride took only twenty minutes to land. A farmer was heading south with parts needed to repair his water pump. Unfortunately, the ride ended less than 30 minutes later when he announced this next dirt road was the turn toward his farm.

Blair removed a flannel shirt from his backpack and put in on over his T-shirt. The desert air had cooled and darkness covered the land like a thick quilt. The landscape around him was beautiful in the evening starlight. He filled his lungs with the fresh air and began his trek.

A few hours later, a fast moving four-wheel drive truck approached from the south and passed. Then brake lights came on and it looped back toward him.

"Hey, curly, ya need a ride?"

Blair looked into the cab of the large Chevy truck. Two thirty-ish men sat in the front seat. The bed of the truck was full of hay bales and barbed wire. If given the choice, Blair would have preferred to ride in the back.

"No thanks, guy's. I'm going the opposite direction."

The passenger spat a glob of tobacco juice into the gravel at Blair's feet. "Well, we can run ya where you need to go." He smiled as the driver burst into loud laughter. "Come on, son. Don't be shy. I don't bite much."

Blair took a couple of steps backward, this could get ugly. "No really, kidding aside, I'm gonna pass." He remembered seeing a ranch house light about a quarter of a mile back.

The passenger door started to open when the sound of tires screeching on asphalt interrupted the night. A battered International pick up truck sat perpendicular in the two lane road.

Buck Stevens was not a happy camper. First thing this morning his backhoe acted up and stopped running. Then he found a hole in his work boots. Then he got a letter from his attorney that they continued his civil case another month. The icing on the cake was when a total stranger called him up and grilled him about a missing `nephew'.

"What do you mean, he's not there?! He left here at 1pm. It's nearly midnight!"

Buck growled into the phone. "You don't need to wake me up to tell me what time it is. I've got a watch! Is it possible the runt was planning on stopping somewhere first? He was vague about when to expect him."

"No, the guy he was driving with was on a tight schedule to Electric City," Jim barked back.

He cradled the phone against his shoulder as he reached for his jeans. "Look, Ellison, I'll drive out and pick him up. I'll have him call you when we get in. Okay?"

"Thanks," Jim responded. "No matter what the time is, he calls me the minute he walks in, okay?"

"Yeah." Buck let the handset fall and reached for his boots, the pair with the newspaper stuffed in the one with the hole.

Thirty-five minutes later, Buck spotted the little drama in his headlights. The ugly pair of rejects from humanity worked on a large orchard to the north, just outside of Coulee City. Spinning the wheel angrily, he jerked open his door and set the parking brake before stepping out into the night air.

"Sandburg, get your ass inside this rig right now." He waved a casual hand at the dumb-struck men in the Chevy. "Hi boys. Thanks for offering my friend a ride."

Blair didn't think twice as he crossed over to the passenger side of Buck's truck and opened the door. "Thanks Uncle Buck!" He removed his backpack and dumped it in the truck bed.

"Oh my GOD, you are a sight for sore eyes!" Sandburg blurted out, leaning his head and closing his eyes. "Those two were creeping me out, man!"

Buck watched the road behind him. It didn't look like the Chevy was going to follow. He spared a moment to study the young man next to him. It had been almost a year since Blair had visited. He looked good, tired, but okay. Buck was glad to see a few pounds added to his skinny frame.

"You had some head trauma recently? Maybe cause you to forget what I said I would do to you next time I caught you hitch-hiking?" Buck asked quietly.

Blair's eyes snapped open in shock. He swallowed before carefully answering. "I was only twelve at the time. I didn't know the rule would last till my grave!"

Buck was aware that the man beside him was a grown adult, but dammit, Naomi's kid was always expecting only the best from his fellow man. "I doubt that I have to carry out my promise, anyway. You've got a Cascade cop to answer to when we get home," Buck informed him with a small grin.

"I'm toast.." Blair whispered.

Ellison's hand snatched up the cordless phone before the first ring had finished.

"Ellison!"

"Hey, Jim." The chipper words floated through the fiber optics. "Uncle Buck said to call no matter what time -"

"Did you break down?" Jim interrupted without remorse.

"Ah, no. I got dropped off where highway 2 and 17 join. It just takes a little longer to thumb a ride."

"And you planned that all along?" Jim drilled.

"I do it all the time, Jim. It's not a big deal."

"If it's no big deal, why would to lie to me and tell me that Curtis was driving you to Dry Falls?" Jim asked, trying to calm himself down.

"Jim, I never lied, man. Curtis did take me to Dry Falls. Dry Falls Junction. He just didn't have the time to go south, then double back north. He had to be home by 7:30 for his parent's anniversary party."

"It's poor planning, Chief. To many things could have happened and no one would know until it's too late," Jim explained patiently.

"But Jim, it's the way I'm used to traveling."

Ellison sighed and rolled his eyes. "We'll finish this discussion later. Let me talk to Stevens."

"Why?"

Exasperated now, Jim returned through clinched teeth. "To thank him, okay!?"

"This is Buck."

"Look, thanks for driving out and picking him up. I'm sorry if I was a jerk on the phone before," Jim said in a tired voice. "I'd understand if you'd rather I didn't come out. I just need to know if there is a bus service that could bring Blair back at the end of the week or if I should drive out and pick him up."

To Jim's surprise, the other man started laughing.

"Ellison, you get out here as soon as you get free. I'm looking forward to swapping Sandburg stories with you."

Jim could hear Blair groaning in the background, "I hope to be over soon. Thanks again."

Replacing the handset onto its base. Jim checked the doors and flipped off the light switch before heading up the stairs to his bed.

The weekend was heaven. Blair woke early with Buck and helped with chores while the cool air from the night still lingered. His visits with the man had always been the highlight of his year. He weeded in the garden, replaced broken shingles on the roof of the barn, changed the oil in the International and did other odd jobs with his uncle. By noon when the mercury began to climb, they were kicked back in the shade with the scrabble board or swimming in the lake. Dinner Saturday was fresh trout Buck caught on a fly line and a salad from the garden.

Monday morning found a rain cloud sitting on the valley almost level with the top of the rim rock canyon walls. Blair watched as large drops of water made the dirt kick up as it hit the desert floor. By ten-thirty the sky was blue again and the air smelled fresh from the rain.

"I'm going to hike up to the falls," Blair announced, tying his long hair back and pulling on his boots. They had just finished replacing a leaky pipe under the sink in the kitchen. Buck's father built the small single story home with two bedrooms off the living room and a kitchen with a bathroom in the back. The foundation and lower part of the exterior walls were hand laid rocks from the area. Then the rest of the wall was wood framed. A porch the full width of the house shaded the front. The age of the place made weekly repair jobs common occurrences.

Buck finished wiping down the tools they had used and replaced them in the box. "Take a canteen with you. Watch for rattlers."

Blair stopped to pick some of the more irritating burrs off his pant legs. The desert shrub loved to give these little seed pods to unsuspecting travelers, but they hurt when they worked close to the skin. He casually scanned for ticks. Seeing none he stood straight and gazed at the view before him, using one hand to shade his eyes from the sun. Even with the sunglasses, it was bright!

God, he loved this region known as the `channeled scablands', a term first used by Geologist J. Harlen Brentz. When he first read the story of Brentz's long fight with his peers to prove his idea on how this spectacular view was created, he felt a kindred spirit. Brentz has passed on now, but in the 40's and 50's he had been determined to proved his theory. Blair knew what it was like to face a roomful of laughing professors as they looked at you in disbelief.

A 50 mile long trench ranging from 1 to 6 miles wide, named the Grand Coulee, had steep walls of basalt up to 900 feet high. Blair knew from studying maps that he was standing approximately in the middle of this awe-inspiring gorge. The original theory before Brentz's had been that erosion from wind and water had caused this spectacular view over eons of time. Until Brentz arrived in the area and started literally walking the land. He spent his adult life hiking and cataloging his finds and putting together the entire picture. He believed a huge flood caused this landscape during the Ice Age.

Blair took a long drink of warm water. Yep, Brentz never gave up. And he was right! Blair's chest swelled with pride. Now, Blair knew that he was right all along too. Sentinels still exist! And even if the world never found out, well, that was okay too. At least he had the satisfaction of knowing he was right! Besides, working with Jim had become more satisfying then he had ever imagined. In the short time he had known the detective, he began to feel as if that was his real job and being at the University was just something he did on the side.

But it felt good to get away for a break and Dry Falls was his location of choice. His first visit to this place had been anything but relaxing, he remembered with a grimace. That was the year that he and his mom had been fighting. Looking back now, he knew a lot of it was the normal rebellion that every kid goes through, but at the time he felt as if his whole world had blown apart.

His mom was going through her `self discovery era'. Unfortunately, Blair was going through his `why are we having to leave again phase'. She had met Eugene W. Stevens and had decided to move them in the middle of his school year. For the first time in young Blair's life, he did not want to go. He liked the school in northern Florida and had argued strongly against the move. Blair laughed out loud causing a large brownish bird to take flight, as he remembered his first impression of this area. His mom had never resorted to using soap to wash out his mouth before, but he knew that she had strongly considered it. He had told her how much he hated the brown cliffs, the barren treeless land, the stupid lakes and most of all Mr Eugene W Stevens and his stupid old house. Naomi had lectured him for a full hour on his attitude, bad vibes and his dark aura.

He had seen another man who was living in a small camping trailer on the property. He never talked with the guy or even seen him for more than a moment at a time. Naomi had told Blair that this was Eugene's older brother.

After a week of living with Stevens, Blair decided that the only reasonable thing to do was to declare himself a man and head back to Florida. Without revealing his plans to anyone, he headed out with some water, a little food, extra underwear and twenty-seven dollars. He made the paved road by sun up, a mere seven-mile hike. But before he could catch a ride to his new freedom a man on a dirt bike appeared out of nowhere, blocking his path.

Blair smiled and turned to head back to the house. It was getting close to his two hour deadline. He had learned from that first experience when Buck had brought him home to Naomi on the back of that bike, not to ever cause the man to worry.

Buck stood with arms crossed on his chest, watching the late model Ford truck drive the last quarter mile to the house. He watched a man a few years younger and an inch taller than himself park near the barn and walk toward him.

"Jim Ellison."

"Buck Stevens."

They shook hands like two warriors meeting for the first time.

"Army?"

"Yeah, rangers. You?"

"Navy Seal."

Jim pointed with his chin back at his truck. "I brought some groceries that should get put away. Where's Blair?"

Buck fell in beside the newcomer as they walked back toward the truck. "He's on a hike, be back in an hour." He leaned over the side of the bed and lifted the first box. It was heavy; he could see large cans of chili, boxed pasta and bottled juice. Ellison reached for a large Coleman cooler and lifted it out.

"He go very far?"

Buck let one side of his mouth rise in amusement. He recognized the look on the other's face. "He's okay, he knows how to be careful out here. Come on, I'll show you where to stow these supplies."

Twenty minutes later the food was put away, and Jim's personal gear was sitting on one of the twin beds in the extra bedroom. Both men were hiding from the heat under the protection of the front porch, sitting in comfortable rockers that look hand-made from bent willow branches.

"Your first time to the scablands?"

"It is. This is remote. I didn't expect to see so many lakes in the area." Jim admitted taking another sip of cool beer. "Good fishing?"

"It can be, this time of year's the best." Buck had seen the other man unload his fishing gear. "You fly fish?"

"Yeah, not as much as I'd like. Western Washington is over-fished. I'm not one to rub shoulders with other fishermen when I go out."

Buck nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem out here. Blair knows the good spots, even though he'd rather use a stick with a pointed rock on the end than a fly line."

Buck finished his beer and stood. "You can continue to relax. I've got a project in the barn that I need to get back to."

"Can I help?" Jim asked, finishing his own drink and following the older man's actions by tossing the long neck bottle in a cardboard box by the door.

Stevens led the way across the hard packed dirt between the house and a large open ended barn that stored white PVC pipes, wire and machinery. Sitting in the middle of the barn was an old backhoe. A tarp had been laid out beside it, and parts of the machine had been removed and neatly lined up on the tarp so the person removing each part could remember the order that the parts came off in.

Buck explained how it had simply stopped working a few mornings ago. He watched as Jim poked around then stopped to inspect the fuel cap. Removing the cap he bent down and sniffed the opening.

"I think you may have an act of vandalism, Buck." Jim pointed to the opening. "It smells like someone has poured sugar into your fuel tank.

"Shit," Buck muttered softly. "I was afraid something like this may happen."

"You've been vandalized before?"

"No, but I'm having problems with a big outfit to the north. They had a court order filed to prevent me from using the water from the lake to start my orchard. It's taken me years to get the financial support to buy the trees and prepare the land, in spite of the attempts to get me to sell." Buck raked his fingers through his short peppered hair. "This land, with water rights, has belonged to my family for three generations, I don't plan on selling out to that outfit in my lifetime. We have a civil suit that should end this once and for all, if the case ever gets to trial, that is. I have the original deed with the water rights in a safe deposit box at my bank in Euphrata."

"Why would they want to prevent you from starting an orchard? Is the water supply limited?"

"Hell, no. Banks Lake to the north is huge. The company was recently purchased by a large out of state conglomerate. They call themselves `Tri-State Orchards' and they don't release a lot of information about themselves, except to be bad neighbors and to hire some of the worst characters they could find in the area." Buck took a deep breath, as if willing himself to stay calm. "Matter of fact, the runt had a run in with two of them the night I picked him up on the highway. I was surprised to see them out of jail." Buck smiled at his guest. "Sorry to dump my problems on you. I appreciate you pointing out the sugar thing. I've got a friend that works on this old bucket of bolts, when he gets back I'll call him up to look at it."

"It's no problem, Blair and I want to help if we can.." Ellison stopped and tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes going to the large open door to the outside.

"Excuse me." Jim went out into the yard and stood looking up the slope towards the north. He raised his hand above his head in greeting. A few minutes later, Buck could hear excited shouts drift down from the north.

"I KNEW it! HA. The trial didn't go, did it?"

Buck walked out to the yard and watched Blair trot down the hill behind the house and into the yard. He was sweaty and dusty from his hike, but sporting a happy grin at the sight of his roommate.

"JIM! Did you meet Uncle Buck yet? Of course you have, stupid me. What do you think, Man? Isn't this the greatest!" He stopped in front of Ellison and bounced on his toes. "What happened to the trial? Didn't I tell you it wouldn't go? Wait, it wasn't dismissed was it? Because you had him cold, man. Tell me it was just continued, or better yet, he said he did it.."

"Sandburg, where's that hat you packed? You've cooked your brain." Ellison took a dusty shoulder firmly and turned Blair towards the house. "You need to get out of the sun. I'll tell you all about the trial inside."

Buck watched the taller man propel the shorter one back into the house. He stood for a minute and looked back at the backhoe.

Well, what do you know, he thought to himself, the runt went and found his Sentinel.

Blair leaned over the kitchen sink and splashed another handful of water on his face. He reached out blindly for the face towel Buck kept by the window only to have Jim put it in his hand.

"Thanks, man." He dried his face and grinned at his friend. "I can't believe you got here so fast!"

"I had the truck packed, ready to leave from the courthouse. When the defense attorney saw a last minute change in which judge was going to hear the case, they filed an affidavit of prejudice. So the case got continued two weeks."

"Perfect!" Blair declared. "So what do you think of Uncle Buck?"

"Seems decent, for a Navy Seal."

"A WHAT?' Blair rocked back on his heels. "He never told me that!"

Ellison laughed at the look on the anthropologist's face. "What do you mean, you never knew? This guy is your uncle, isn't he?"

"No, he just made me call him that. Never went along with kids calling adults by their first name." Blair grinned with a twinkle in his eyes. "In fact, he thought the whole hippie scene was a communist plot on America. I figured he had a military background, but he never said he was a Navy Seal. COOL!"

Jim leaned a hip against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms across his chest. "So how did the two of you meet?"

Blair shrugged. "My mom was dating his brother, we lived for a while in this house.' Blair's face got a nostalgic look. "His brother, Eugene, wanted to turn this place into a retreat to teach personal awareness and how to cleanse your aura."

"What happened?"

Blair smiled happily. "Mom and Eugene went off to collect financial backing, and I got to stay here with Uncle Buck!" Blair leaned forward and lowered his voice. "At the time, I was kinda in a rebellious stage. I was twelve."

"Oh, he straighten you out a bit?"

"You could say we came to an understanding."

"I'll bet."

Jim and Blair hiked across the canyon floor as the sun hung low in the western sky. Blair had borrowed Buck's fishing equipment. They approached the small lake nestled at the base of the massive cliff.

"Wow!" Jim glanced up in wonder. "This is amazing! You said this was a waterfall?"

"Yeah, during the end of the ice age. The falls would have been three and a half miles wide, that's bigger than Niagara, man."

"It looks more than a 300 foot drop."

"400 feet. They believe about 200 feet of water flowed over the falls. Think about it, 3 miles wide, 200 feet deep, that's like all the rivers in the world added together and it still doesn't begin to compare with the magnitude of this place!" Blair exclaimed as he led the way down through the high weeds to the water. A small boat with oars was tucked away in the vegetation on the shore.

Together they pulled the boat free and stepped on board. A young deer raised her head a few hundred feet over and watched as the men cast off from the shore. Blair took the oars as Jim began to set up his equipment, connecting his five-piece travel fly rod together. He threaded the bright yellow line through the small guides to the end of the delicate length of graphite.

"Head over to the shaded water by the cliffs, we'll try there first."

Jim finished rigging his gear and started in on Sandburg's borrowed equipment. It was a two-piece rod with a decent but battered reel. The set up was sized for medium to large size trout, about a size five. Jim had brought his size `three' travel rod, he wondered if he had underestimated the size of the trout in the lakes around here. Oh well, he'll just have to take a little more time to land them. There was little to no wind, so Jim was satisfied that his first attempt to teach Sandburg to cast would be successful.

After an hour of dry casting, Blair got the nod from Jim.

"Okay, now quit scaring the trout away and leave your fly on the water for a while."

"Kay."

They sat together in the boat for a several minutes. Jim relaxed into the heat of the day. God, this was nice. He felt the tension from the drive over flow from his body, letting his mind concentrate on nothing more than the dry fly floating on the surface tension of the water.

"Jim, can you see all the way to the bottom?"

Sigh, Ellison knew the kid couldn't sit quiet for more than ten minutes. Time to avoid the pending test he knew was coming.

"In some places, yes." He checked his fly and lifted the line to cast it out again closer to the cliff wall. "Explain again how you thought hitch-hiking on Friday was a reliable and safe means of transportation."

"Jiiimmmm. Come on, man. We covered this over the phone."

"No, I said we'd talk about this when I got here. So we're talking about it. What I don't get is how someone with your obvious intelligence thinks it's safe to take rides from strangers. Do you need more peril in your life?"

"No. I seem to get enough just hanging out at the police station," Blair retorted in a peeved voice. "Look, I get it, already. You don't like to hitch-hike."

Jim sighed. He would need to bring out the big guns. "Here's the new rule, Sandburg. If you want to continue with this partnership and your dissertation on Sentinels, you have to promise me that you will not take rides from strangers. Absolutely no hitch-hiking."

"What! No way, man. I can't promise that, what if the Corvair breaks down and I'm stranded?"

Jim shot him an exasperated look. "Gee, that's a real tough one. Call me and I'll come get you, Einstein."

Blair's anger melted. "Really, even if it's late or I'm far away?"

Ellison wondered at the amazed expression on his friend's face. "Of course if it's late, and if you're too far away, I'll make arrangements to send safe transportation."

"Why?"

Jim turned to face the young man squarely in the boat. "Blair, it matters to me. Get it? For many reasons, I care what happens to you, partners are like that, plus the obvious question, where else am I going to find help in learning about this Sentinel stuff!?"

Blair felt a flush of warmth start up his neck and into his face. "Oh." He turned away and concentrated on his fly line lying in the water.

"Tell me about those 2 guys on the highway last Friday night."

Blair's expression was comical. His eyes widened in surprise and his head almost swiveled off his shoulders as he turned to stare at the cop in disbelief.

"How did you hear about that?"

"Buck."

"Oh," Blair returned to watch the water. "Nothing to say, they stopped to offer me a ride, but Uncle Buck appeared so I didn't need it."

Jim had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to the story than Blair was telling. "Uh huh, did Buck tell you that they worked for an outfit up north that has been giving him trouble?"

"What kind of trouble?" Blair forgot the fishing line and gave his full attention to his friend.

Jim relayed the information that Buck Stevens had shared in the barn, including what he had discovered in the fuel tank of the backhoe.

"Why didn't he tell me about any of this?" Blair demanded.

"He seems like a private man, maybe he doesn't want to worry you." Jim watched a large rainbow trout head towards Blair's fly. "Twitch your line a bit, Chief."

Blair did without question and watched as the water at the end of his line broke with a roll and the small bit of yarn tied on the line disappear with a jerk.

"Lift your rod tip! Quick!" Jim instructed.

The hook was set and the fight was on! Blair watched the line go taut, the tip of his rod bending down towards the lake surface, the fly line beginning to strip off the reel at an alarming speed. Standing suddenly in the boat, Blair shouted, "Jim! What do I do?!"

Jim laughed at the near panic mixed with excitement in his partner's voice. He reached a long arm over and snagged the younger man's belt. "Start by not falling out of the boat! Let him run, he's tiring himself out. Try and keep the rod at a 90 degree angle to the line. That way your rod works as a spring. Any slack in the line and the fish may throw the hook, the only time you want slack is when-"

Just then the large 18 inch rainbow leapt out of the water, the golden sunlight flashing on its side, displaying the colors that gave the trout its name.

Both men shouted out at the same time.

"Wow! Look at this size of that fish!"

"Give slack! Drop the tip!"

As the monster slapped the water the tip of the rod lost its bend and the line was suddenly limp.

The look on Sandburg's face was priceless. Jim laughed until his sides ached. Blair continued to stare in disbelief at the water, his fly rod and finally at his fishing companion.

"What happened, man?"

Jim wiped the tears from both eyes with the back of his hand. "Oh, man!" He looked up at Blair, still standing in the boat and started laughing again.

"Jim!"

"Sorry...." A few more chuckles then he steeled his features. "Sorry, what I was getting ready to tell you is that the trout will sometimes jump, when he hits the water he will toss the hook, if you dropped your rod just before he lands and then gently apply tension again, the hook has a better chance to stay in."

"Oh, any more rules I should know about?" Blair asked, sitting down in disappointment.

"Tons, but they're best learned as you go along." Jim slapped the dejected student on the back with a broad grin. This was turning out to be a great vacation. "Tough luck, Darwin. Trust me, you'll have another one before the end of the day."

"So you CAN see to the bottom, can't you!"

Oops, this kid was like a dog with a bone!

That night the two fishermen ate dinner with a healthy appetite. Buck listened to the story of the monster that got away, laughing loudly with Jim at the outcome. They had arrived back in darkness, without fish, knowing that the previous agreement was to grill the steaks that Jim had purchased on the drive over. Jim's premonition had been correct. Blair caught and released a total of eight fish, but none the size of the first one that escaped. Jim had lost count of his fish at fifteen. It was a real treat, and a refreshing change to the lakes Jim was used to near Cascade.

"So, Buck, what are the prices of land around here?" Jim asked picking up his plate and carrying it to the sink.

Blair and Buck exchanged knowing looks.

"The beauty of the desert get to you, man?"

"Careful, Ellison, once this land gets in your blood you can never leave for long," Buck added with a grin. He helped clear the table, then returned to sit down as Blair waved him away from dish washing detail.

"A man can have investments, can't he?" Jim tossed over his shoulder as he started filling the sink with hot sudsy water. Blair stood ready at his side with a dish towel for drying.

"Hey, by the way, Jim called his boss back in Cascade, Uncle Buck. About Tri-States orchard," Blair blurted out. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

Buck shrugged. "No proof. Just suspicions and neighbors talking."

Jim handed a clean plate to Blair. "I thought Simon might make some calls and try and do some poking around, there'd be no way to trace it back to you."

"True, I don't suppose it could hurt."

After the kitchen was back in shape, the scrabble board appeared. They played for over an hour at the kitchen table. Buck and Jim each were nursing a dark German beer. Blair made a pot of mint tea and treated himself by adding a locally made honey. Jim's score had fallen behind the other two, who were within 3 points of each other, until Blair pulled ahead with the final word, going out and ending the game.

"Quag?" Jim looked at the board. "What the heck is `quag'?"

Buck finished tallying the score and tossed down his pencil. "You little runt! If I hadn't been the one to teach you that word, I'd take a switch to you!"

Blair grinned without fear at his uncle by choice. "The student passes the teacher! It means `a swamp', Jim." He arched his back, stretching his hands above his head. "I'm beat. I'm turning in. Tomorrow night we should play for money!" Standing, he wiggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together in a greedy fashion.

"No way," Jim declared, holding out his hands. "Poker, yes. Scrabble with the two of you cut-throats would be suicide!"

"Chicken! Night, Uncle Buck.... Jim."

Jim and Buck retired to the rockers on the front porch to enjoy the cooling night air and finish their beers. The sound of the bullfrogs and crickets filled the night. Jim made a mental note to dial down his hearing tonight if he planned on getting any sleep. After a few nights, he should get used to the nocturnal symphony. Without the city lights, the stars were bright in the sky.

"I gotta tell ya, Ellison. I know admirals that don't have what it takes to pull off what you did today," Buck stated calmly gazing up into the night sky.

"What's that?"

"Teach the runt to fish, he really caught eight? How'd you get him to sit still long enough?"

Jim chuckled softly. "You just have to know which carrot to dangle." Jim finished his drink and set the bottle down next to the rocker. "Blair told me a little about how the two of you met."

"Yeah, damn, he was one pissed off kid. Can't say I blame him much. You met his Mom yet?"

"No."

"Nice enough lady. I'm not sure she should have been traveling around the world with a kid. Kids need more than love and pretty thoughts." Buck set his empty along side Jim's. "My brother died about seven years ago in an accident. I admired him, but he was a bit of a flake. He wanted to turn this place into a new age retreat, `course they had another word for it back then."

A pack of coyotes howled in the night, causing both men to pause and listen.

"Blair's mom and Eugene were caught up in the plan, that's all they talked or thought about. When the runt decided he'd had enough and took off, she came out to my trailer in tears. Eugene had decided maybe it was for the best, like a twelve-year-old kid could make it on his own. Anyway, she came pounding on my door and asked for help." Buck shifted in his seat and continued. "After I brought him back, his mom and I had a private talk. We decided Blair could use a little down time. I stayed on with him for a while. Turns out it was the best investment of my time I'd ever spent."

"Blair thinks a lot of you."

"It's mutual, he's real important to me. He wrote and told me that you let him move in after that warehouse fire. And now he's doing his diss on the police department?"

Jim nodded.

"It's funny, I didn't think he'd ever give up on his Sentinel theory."

Closing to door quietly, Jim easily observed the form in the far bed, bundled under the wool blanket. The desert air had cooled considerably during the hours after the sun set, causing the cop to change into loose sweatpants and a T-shirt before slipping under the sheet of his own bed. He turned his mental dial for hearing down to tune out the sounds of the desert until he could just hear the gentle sound of his roommate breathing. In seconds, he was asleep...

The first loud crash of breaking glass shot the ex-ranger into a sitting position in his bed. The inky blackness of the room was chased away as a whisky bottle with a burning tail arched through the window frame and smashed against the far wall above Blair's bed. Gasoline sprayed out soaking the wall and the blanket below. Somewhere else in the house Jim heard more windows break. Before he could get on his feet, bright flames followed the path of gasoline.

Blair woke to his bedding on fire. With a scream of terror, he started batting at the tongues of flame with his hands.

"Blair! No!" Ellison whipped his blanket off his bed and smothered the flames closest to his friend. Wrapping both arms just above Blair's waist, Jim yanked the young man out of bed with strength borne of fear. The door to the bedroom flew open bouncing off the wall behind it as Stevens ran into the room dressed in jeans, unbuttoned shirt over a T-shirt and boots.

"We've got to get out of here!" Buck reached down to grab both pairs of hiking boots on the floor. Flames spread at alarming speed and black smoke was beginning to bank down from the ceiling. Fresh air was pouring into the open window, feeding the flames. Buck took an arm and together he and Jim propelled Sandburg into the living room.

Jim pushed Blair down onto the sofa, he could smell the burnt flesh. Asking Buck to help Blair with his boots, he went to the window facing the front yard. Jim stood to the side, pulling on his boots and studying the darkness outside. Under the large shade trees, he made out four men carrying rifles. Running quickly to the kitchen, he found three more in the back.

Buck finished with the boots and looked at Blair's hands. He sported burns on palms and fingers, mostly first degree, but some second.

A quick check of his mouth and nose revealed no burns to the face and it was unlikely that his lungs were damaged. His respirations were fast but not labored.

Blair blinked. "Uncle Buck?"

"You okay?"

Sandburg grimaced in pain, looking at his hands. "Owww."

Jim joined them from the back of the house. "We've got armed hostiles in front and back."

The sound of a crash from Buck's bedroom startled the three.

"Come on!"

"I need to get my gun!"

"No time! Your room is too far gone!"

Sure enough, Jim noticed the open doorway into their room was fully involved with fire.

Buck shoved the kitchen table against the back wall and lifted the rug from the floor. A large metal ring lay inset in the wood floor.

Cursing himself for not thinking clearly, Ellison pulled Blair to his feet and joined the older man who had a trap door opened. Buck reached out and snagged a canteen hanging by the back door on a long strap and a heavy flashlight from a kitchen drawer. They climbed down a wooden ladder to an earthen room. Closing the trap door above them, Jim watched as Buck turned on the flashlight and headed to a far corner.

"This way, grab hold." He led them to a door made out of heavy timber. It took both men to open the ancient door to reveal a tunnel. They formed a single line and moved into the passageway, the taller men having to crouch. "My grandfather built this during the Indian uprisings. It will take us out a couple hundred feet to an old smoke-house. We may be able to get up into the hills without being spotted."

"Jim..." Blair stumbled to his knees, using his hands to break his fall. "UUGGGHH!!"

"Shit, Chief. Hold up, Buck."

They lifted him back up to his feet. Jim saw the tears of pain cutting through the dirt on Sandburg's face. "Blair, breathe through the pain, buddy." He took both hands by the wrist and inspected the torn skin. The blisters were now ripped and the likelihood of infection was great. "Buck, give me the water."

He quickly cleaned out the dirt; the water temporarily easing the pain. Buck removed his outer shirt and began to rip long strips that Jim used to loosely wrap around the injured hands.

"Jim, what's happening?" Blair asked through clenched teeth.

"Seven men set fire to the house and waited outside with rifles. They probably would have picked us off if we had run out. Thank god Buck's house had an escape route. We're going to go underneath them and get out of here. You okay now?"

"I thought I was having a flashback from the golden, man. I almost wish I had been. My hands hurt, Jim."

"I know, we'll get you to a doctor, until then, you keep them clean, okay?" He finished his bandaging and used a spare piece of Buck's shirt to wipe the dirt and tears off the grad student's face.

"Yeah, clean." Blair looked around him in disbelief. "We're like in a scene from the `Great Escape', tunneling out of Germany and you want me to keep clean."

Jim grinned. Oh yeah, Blair was back.

The house was now fully engulfed in flames, capturing the attention of the armed men surrounding it. The three previous occupants slipped up into the desert hills without being noticed. Using the soft light from the crescent moon above and keeping the flashlight turned off in fear of being spotted by the men below, Jim and Blair followed Buck without question as he let them up towards the talus slope, the loose rocks that gather below the cliffs.

"Aww, Uncle Buck, the house, man.." Blair softly moaned, looking over his shoulder at the fire below. His hands hurt, but not as badly as his heart as he watched the home that he had loved since he was that twelve-year-old rebel burn to the ground.

"Is it possible someone will see the fire and call the fire department?" Jim asked. He laid a gentle hand on the younger man's back urging him to keep his eyes forward and to keep moving.

"Maybe. I doubt it, unless it starts a brush fire, but there's not enough wind for that to happen. The nearest engine is over fifty miles to the north, this land is served by the state DNR people." They had reached a faint animal trail, and continued on it to parallel below the cliff. "There is a break in the rimrock where we should be able to scramble over to the plateau above. We need to get off this slope before the sun comes up."

Soon the three hikers reached a spot in the cliff where water had run over the lip from above, breaking down the rock cliff enough to find hand holds to climb. Jim studied the climb then looked doubtfully at Blair.

Blair could almost read his thoughts. "Don't worry, man. I can do this!"

"It's not like we have much of a choice, Ellison," Buck explained calmly. "This is the only place possible to climb up in the amount of time we have. We can risk using the flashlight if we need to. I doubt they'll even notice."

"All right, I'll go first, then Blair, then you. But no light, I don't want to risk it."

Blair watched Jim start forward, reaching for his first hand hold. Soon he was more that ten feet up. With a deep breath, Blair followed. It looked like maybe fifty feet. That's roughly five stories. It's a flipping sky scraper! His hands began to complain painfully with each handhold. His arms began to tremble. Then he made the fatal mistake and looked down. Shit! He wasn't going to make it! He froze, pressed as close to the rock wall as possible and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Jim..."

"Just hold on Chief. Don't move!"

Blair opened his eyes and glanced upwards, Ellison was backtracking downward then he was alongside. With a maneuver that would have made Spiderman jealous, he swung directly behind the smaller man and pushed Blair against the cliff with his body, pinning him.

"I've got you. You're not going to fall."

Blair just nodded his head in agreement, his eyes closed and cheek pressed against the rock.

"Now listen, you've made it over half way. You hear me? It's only a few more feet, about the same as the stairs to my bedroom, that's child's play, right? We're just going to rest for a minute, then you're going to start up and I'll be right behind you. And you're not going to look down either, or I'll kick your butt all the way back to Cascade. I'll be right below you, so you wont fall, you got that?"

Blair let the soft words wash over him like soothing balm. Jim was nothing if not confident, it would never be a question of failure. Maybe it was an Ellison thing, or a Ranger thing or even a Cop thing, but Blair was certain about one thing - he could not let his Sentinel down. With a final nod he steeled himself to finish the climb.

"Kay. I'm ready"

They continued the painful climb in the near darkness. Then just before Blair was certain he could go no further, he realized the top was less than three feet away. He was going to make it!

"Blair, hold it! Don't move!"

Ellison scrambled up alongside and then finished the last few feet. Suddenly with a swift motion he swung his right arm up and over and then backwards with amazing speed. Something long and writhing arced out behind them to the rocky slope below.

"Okay, come on, Chief. You're almost here."

Blair moved and found his arms grasped as he neared the top and then he was off the cliff and laying on the hard surface of the plateau, panting through his mouth. A few seconds later, Buck was sitting next to him, catching his breath.

"Ellison, how did you know that rattler was there?"

Blair curled into a fetal position and stuffed a bandaged hand into his mouth to muffle his hysterical giggle that threatened to bubble out. Oh, my God! He nearly got bit in the face by a rattle snake AFTER climbing fifty feet up a cliff AFTER escaping a house fire AFTER ....

Large hands removed his bandage mitt from his teeth and he forced himself to relaxed. I'm calm. I AM calm. I am CALM. Yeah, this was working. He felt Jim pick up his other hand by the wrist and examine it as well. He realized that Buck was still waiting for an answer.

Blair sat up and crossed his legs Indian style. His loose hair was a mess, his sweat pants and T-shirt filthy from the fire, the tunnel and the climb up the face of the cliff.

"Jim has really good hearing, I could hear the rattler too, but it didn't register right away." The young man explained. "I read they can sense movement, it must have known we were climbing up from below and tried to warn us."

"I'm a sentinel."

Blair stared in dumb shock at his friend, who was becoming easier to see. Oh, yeah, Blair noted with clinical detachment, the sun was starting to rise.

"I thought so."

"I figured you had."

Blair sat between the two older men, frozen. It appeared the older men had nothing more to say. Finally, Blair found his voice. "Um, Jim, now that the cat is out of the bag, can you hear what's going on below?"

"You can hear that far?"

"Yeah." Ellison held up his right hand. "Quiet a sec." He tilted his head. "They found the tunnel in the smoke house. They think we got out and they're talking to someone on a radio."

"Let's move out. We've got too many miles to hike before we're out their reach," Buck stated, handing over a water bottle to Jim and standing. Blair let both men pull him up to his feet.

Jim removed the cap to the plastic bottle and held it out. Sandburg reached for it with his mitted hands only to have the cop pull it back.

"I'll hold it, you don't need to touch anything more with those hands."

Blair rolled his eyes and allowed Jim to pour a few swallows of water into his mouth. They moved out, following Buck again with out question. The sky to the east became brighter and moving across the dessert floor was easier as morning broke. Buck took them on a route that seemed to follow the cliff to their left. The direction was mostly north, but it became apparent that they would be working westward, towards the highway as soon as they could clear the cliffs of Dry Falls.

Almost an hour later the sun was well over the eastern horizon. The heat was beginning to climb. Ellison cast another worried glance around the surrounding landscape. He knew it was just a matter of time before they would be spotted, there was simply no place to hide on the plateau they were hiking across.

The other two men were holding up well, only slowing down long enough to take small sips of water. Jim mentally thanked the older man's presence of mind to hand them their hiking boots. Making this trek barefoot was not a pretty picture. He chastised himself again for forgetting his own gun. From now on, he was taking a piece with him everywhere he went!

A low hum grabbed his attention and he tracked it with his ears until he could pin point the location. Zooming in with his eyesight he made out a dust cloud several miles out.

"We've got company." He pointed to the north.

"What do we do, man! There's no where to hide out here!" Blair spun in a full circle desperately scanning the area.

"How much time to do you figure we have before they arrive?" Buck asked.

"Maybe 4 minutes, if they're on a road. More if they are going over land." Jim scrubbed his face with both hands. "We should split up, reduce the numbers."

Buck nodded his head in agreement. "Sounds good."

"Sandburg stays with me, we'll try and swing north-east, circle around and head back to the highway."

"Good luck." Without a backward glance, Buck started off at a fast trot.

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